Un-ending blackness all around,
The silent din, the everlasting sound,
The solitary being, on its own,
It's lonesome vagueness barely shown,
The dark brain drained of thought,
Light and life always sought,
It's mind withering by the day,
On the floor there it lay,
Eternal night, in its head it bore,
There it stayed forevermore.
I wrote this poem a while ago, and might use it for an essay.